Her Body
by decanted port
Summary: Charles Carson's thoughts on Elsie's body. Bit of an experiment


**That's just a little something I thought about. It will turn into a drabble collection, which starts with her hair end will end with her feet (and will contain everything in between). Pretty pointless and full of smut… I hope you enjoy it. And please tell me what you think about it and leave me a review.**

 **Oh, and I'd like to thank lovely stokersisters who encouraged me to write again after RL sucked. Hab dich lieb, Schwesterlein =)**

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 **Her hair**

Her dark auburn curls, the way the dimmed sun light (that fund its way through the small windows of the servant's tract downstairs) seemed to make it glow, her elaborate coil of hair…these things were the first ones he really noticed about her and he began immediately to wonder how long they were. He imagined her sitting on her bed, crewing out her thatch and braiding it for the night.

Charles remembered the very first time he had seen her plait very vividly. It had been in 1899, four years after her arrival. A dark and snowy night, in the midst of winter, the servant's quarters were bitingly cold and Elsie leant over corpse of the housekeeper on the floor. She just keeled over dead. Elsie had tried to stay calm, had knocked at his door to ask him if he could help her to move the body. It had been a terrible situation, but all he really took in was her long, dark hair, her braid falling down over the simple white fabric of her dressing gown, all over her back, much longer than he had imagined. He felt foolish to admire her hair, silently, in such a moment, but he just got carried away. Oh, he would have given everything to simply touch it, to feel if it was as soft as it looked like. But he remained the stuffy butler in his behaviour. Charles allowed himself only to be her admirer in his thoughts.

In the summer of 1910 he first discovered a thin silver strand in her hair. He hadn't seen it coming, never really thought about her hair getting grey, but Charles thought that it only made her more beautiful. She had aged, but to him it seemed as if she became more beautiful with each passing day. He loved it when she tried out new hairstyles, a few gentle waves, a double braid, a pinned updo. His Elsie was a bit vain, she enjoyed being pretty, at least he thought she did.

There was a time after the war, when there were new silver strands nearly every day, when her hair wasn't as strong and shiny as it used to, when even her hairstyle seemed to be … messy. It worried Charles deeply and he didn't like it. Something was wrong, something was awfully wrong.

He would always remember the day they walked into the sea, together. Her hair was hidden beneath a straw hat, but it didn't matter, not really. It was the day he realised that he could never be without her by his side, that she kept him steady, that he would fall to the ground without this woman, the woman he loved.

The first time he really touched her hair was during their first kiss, after a misunderstanding that could have cost him everything. But it didn't. Later that night, he didn't only remember her skin, the taste of her lips, the way she looked at him, but also how soft her hair felt.

Their wedding was another day where her beautiful hair was hidden beneath a hat, but this time, it was Charles who took it off. He exposed her lovely curls, still auburn, a bit lighter than ten years ago. He removed the hairpins one by one, let her hair fall down her back.

To see his wonderful wife with her hair down for the very first time, this was intimate. A privilege. And he relished every single second of this. He studied every single curl, every silver strand. It still amazed him.

To stroke her hair whilst he made love to her, to see how she buried her own hands into it when she moaned and shivered, to feel it against his chest when they lay spooned, it send thrills through his body. It was still long, not as long as the night he had first seen it in a braid, but still long. He wouldn't want it any other way.

Every time Elsie left the bath tub, her hair fell over her shoulders and two curly strands covered her rosy nipples. Charles didn't know if she did this on purpose, but he loved it. The hardened rosy peeks shimmered through their auburn cover and it was his biggest delight to set them free, to touch her hair and expose her bare breasts.

After their retirement, she had decided to wear simple plaits more often, not to make a big effort when they stayed at home and he loved it. Her hair would never stop to amaze him and it didn't bother him that, after nearly ten years after they left the Abbey, only a few strands reminded him of the dark auburn curls she had had decades ago. Her hair became gray, white even, but she never cut it. They had grown old and it was okay, because they grew old _together_.

 **More smut in the next one! Hope you liked it a bit. I'm German so please forgive me the maaaany mistakes.**

 **And I am begging you for reviews.**


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